A Place I Knew
by simplytoopretty
Summary: Thirteen years after leaving Smallville, Clark Kent returns for his mother’s funeral. Once in town, he has to deal with the consequences of his past actions. Clark-centric; Chlark friendship.
1. Part I

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"**A PLACE I KNEW" by simplytoopretty  
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_Summary: Thirteen years after leaving Smallville, Clark Kent returns for his mother's funeral. Once in town, he has to face the consequences of his past actions.  
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_Rating: If you can watch the show, you can read this (incidentally, SV is PG-rated in Canada)_

_Timeline: Set in an alternate universe in which Clark chose not to stay in Phoenix. _

_Characters: Clark, Chloe, Jimmy, Lois, Lana_

_Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine._

_Author's Note: __Written for the Stephen King challenge at SVRenaissance. Posted in full on my livejournal but this version has a few corrections and has a different title. There will be six chapters in total. I'll post them as I finish editing them.  
_

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Part I

The highway seemed nearly endless, miles upon miles of gray racing by as he drove the familiar but strange route.

It was a car journey he had taken probably hundreds of times before. But he hadn't taken it in nearly thirteen years. It had been thirteen years since he had driven the road connecting Metropolis and Smallville.

Thirteen long years and yet little had changed in terms of the scenery. The sky was as blue as he remembered it, nothing at all like the overcast days he was used to in the city. Most of the land lining the road was still farmland. The land was green and fertile and lush with crops. Occasionally there was a farmhouse, some old and neglected, others newer, others just well-maintained. Nothing at all like the skyscrapers and condo buildings filling the Metropolis skyline, everything packed closely together.

This was farmland. Open spaces and clean skies. Every 50 miles or so there was an exit leading to a small town. These towns of the Midwest were spacious and stagnant. He had been to most of them at one point or another in the past, back when he had still lived in Smallville. All the towns had resembled Smallville. The same construction style, filled with the same people; towns built from the same cloth mold. Nothing unique or distinguishing about any of them.

Or, there hadn't been anything interesting about them fifteen years ago. Back when he was just Clark Kent, farm boy and high school student. He wasn't that person anymore. He had vague memories, sure, but the essence of that Clark Kent had left him a long time ago.

And now he was going back. Back to the town he had abandoned so long ago. Back to a life he had left and didn't want to return to. There were too many memories.

The sign for the Smallville exit appeared and for a moment he was tempted to keep driving. Just drive and leave behind his obligations. He had done it before. But he couldn't do it again. He wasn't sixteen anymore. He didn't have the same luxury to just sail on by.

He turned on his right turn signal and drove onto the exit ramp. A few miles down the i_Welcome to Smallville/i _sign greeted him. i_Home the Largest Meteor Shower /i_ it read.

He drove into town and wished that he could turn back.

The Kent farm, from the outside, looked much like it had when he was sixteen. The paint was a bit faded, true, but other than that, everything seemed the same. Only he knew that nothing was the same. Nothing had been the same since he had left, he knew.

Climbing out of the car, he walked up the front steps of the house. At the porch, he paused, hand raised to knock. A part of him wanted to turn back, run away. He couldn't, and he had made it this far. He took a deep breath and knocked.

Jonathan Kent answered the door, looking far older than Clark remembered his dad being. His father's hair was completely gray, no trace of his former blond left. He was heavier, especially in the middle and in the cheeks. Wrinkles lined Jonathan's face, too many wrinkles for his age. His blue eyes, always so full of life, were pale and lifeless.

"Clark."

"Hi Dad," he said, shifting on his feet. It had been hard to knock. It was even harder to face this man who was just a shell of his father. The Jonathan Kent he had called father was clearly gone. In his place was a man Clark didn't know.

Jonathan attempted to smile, but failed. He reached out and pulled Clark into a hug. The hug was awkward, Jonathan searching for the son he had known and Clark stiff and unused to displays of affection. Hugs weren't something he received on a daily basis.

The last person he had hugged had been, in fact, his writing partner. But that had been Christmas Eve and Lois had been slightly drunk and giddy. She had threatened him the next day with bodily harm if he ever mentioned the impromptu hug ever again. He had chosen to heed the warning. He was imperious to harm in most circumstances, but he'd bet that Lois could hurt him, if she chose to do. It was better to stay on her good side, even if sometimes he just wanted to throttle her for her impulsivity.

Jonathan pulled away from the hug, and Clark felt a momentarily pang of guilt for his failure to comfort his father. Instead he had let his mind drift, back to the city where he wanted to be. His father had concealed his hurt but Clark knew it was there. It seemed that all he did was hurt his father.

"Come inside, son," Jonathan said softly.

The words reminded Clark of something his father had said to him a million times before. For some reason, though, they just seemed wrong. Maybe it was because he no longer felt like a son. He hadn't belonged to Jonathan and Martha Kent in years. It was strange to be called i_son/i_.

The inside of the house had changed little. The living room had a new couch and a new TV but there didn't appear to be any other changes. The color was still the same, as were the pictures of him as a child on the fireplace mantel. There was a more recent picture of his parents, one that showed them smiling. Their smiles didn't quite reach their eyes and Clark knew he was one of the reasons.

With one last glance at the new photo, Clark turned and walked down the hallway to the kitchen. He could hear his father in that room, could hear the scrapping of a kitchen table chair as his dad sat down. He could hear the heavy sigh his dad emitted.

He paused in the doorway of the kitchen. The kitchen had been the center of the Kent family life in many ways. One of them had almost always been in the kitchen. The kitchen had always been alive and warm. The kitchen felt different now. Dead somehow, empty and void of the warmth that had characterized the kitchen ten years earlier.

"How are you holding up?" Clark asked, wincing at the words the moment they left his mouth. Here he was, a reporter to The Daily Planet, and all he could come up with were meaningless words.

Jonathan's voice was tired when he answered. "I've been better, son." His gaze went downwards, towards the table.

For a second, Clark wondered why his dad kept calling him i_son/i_. It wasn't something that his dad had done before.

"So…." Clark began before trailing off. Nothing came to his mind to follow his _so_. His mind was as empty as the kitchen, although neither was empty in actuality. His mind was racing, but everything was tumbled together.

Jonathan saved him from having to come up with a conversation starter. "You should go get dressed. We need to leave in a little more than thirty minutes." He looked up, his face expressionless. "I'm sure you'll want a shower. It's a long drive."

Clark nodded. He was grateful for the escape route his dad had just provided him. He schooled his expression to neutral. He knew it really didn't matter. His dad had already seen through him, knew that he was uncomfortable and didn't want to be here.

"My suit's in the car. I'll go get it. Then I'll shower."

He turned and left the kitchen swiftly, fighting the urge to slip into super-speed. He was sure that his dad wouldn't want a reminder of what had taken his son away in the first place. He had already vowed not to use his powers during this trip, just like he had vowed to make sure that Superman wouldn't be mentioned.

No talk about aliens or superheroes or anything of that sort. He'd play the dutiful son role. He'd go to the funeral and stay for a few days. He'd try to convince his father to sell the farm and move to Metropolis, like any good son would. His dad would refuse, of course, and in a few days he could go back to Metropolis.

That was the plan.

* * *

The weather was too perfect for a funeral.

The sky was an azure blue. A few white fluffs of clouds drifted lazily in the sky but otherwise the sky was just an endless stretch of blue. The sun was out and a light early autumn breeze kept the temperature moderate.

Clark was studiously avoiding looking at anyone, eyes focused at the headstone. He had managed to avoid talking to anyone before the church ceremony by ducking into the washroom. He had driven his own car to the cemetery, bypassing riding with his father.

The pastor finished his speech, a touching piece about life after death that did little to tug at Clark's heart. He didn't believe in an afterlife. There was just this life.

Jonathan moved forward to lay his flower on top of his wife's coffin. Clark followed him, laying his own white rose on to his mother's coffin. His eyes flickered to the ground and then back to the headstone, reading the inscription. i_Martha Anne Kent, Beloved Wife and Mother/i. _

He walked away from the tiny crowd of people. The funeral service at the church had been full. Only a few people had come to the cemetery to see the final resting place of Martha Anne Kent. His dad, a few family friends, and himself.

The cemetery ground was green grass. It looked alarmingly green. It was a green that Clark rarely saw in Metropolis.

Someone came up behind him. They didn't say anything for a long moment, just stared at his back. He wished that the person would just go away. He didn't feel like talking. He didn't want any false platitudes or any empty sympathies.

"Hey Clark."

He sighed. The person hadn't got the message that he didn't want to talk. He just wanted to be by himself. But of course no one would let him have his wish, especially _her_.

"Hello Chloe," he said as he turned around.

The girl he had known in high school had been replaced by the woman standing in front on him. Her hair was still short and blond, but the color was a darker blond and it fell to her shoulders in loose curls. She wore bangs that framed her green eyes and made her look more feminine than she had back in high school. She wore black trousers and a while blouse, looking far more professional than he had ever seen her.

Chloe smiled at him, but the smile was tight, almost forced-looking. "I'd ask how you are but that would be a stupid question, now wouldn't it?"

He almost smiled at her statement. She didn't look like the Chloe he had known but her voice was the same. He chose not to answer her rhetorical question. Instead, he said, "You look good."

"Thank you," she murmured. "You do too. I guess Metropolis agrees with you." She said it softly, with barely a hint of bitterness.

He didn't say anything, sensing a reply wasn't required of him. And even if a reply had been required, Clark would have still stayed quiet. There wasn't much he could say anyways.

"How long are you staying for?"

"Only a few days. I have to get back to work."

Clark shifted on his feet, feeling the warm sun beat down on his neck. The tie around his neck felt constricting, even though he wore a similar tie everyday to work and it never bothered him there.

"Before you go, we should have coffee, catch up."

Chloe's words had caught him off-guard. He hadn't expected her to want that. He had expected her to refuse to speak to him. Then again, when had Chloe ever done as expected? Although he could guess what she wanted to catch-up on, and a large part of him wanted to say no.

She didn't let him. "Tomorrow, at three, at the Talon."

It wasn't a suggestion or even an offer. It was a statement of how things were going to go. He could have tried to argue but he remembered how stubborn Chloe had been in high school. "Three o'clock at the Talon tomorrow, got it."

"Good," she said before turning on her heel and heading towards his father. Clark watched as his dad embraced Chloe. He saw her mouth move but refused to eavesdrop on what she was saying.

Instead he just watched and wondered if agreeing to meet with Chloe had been a good idea. It would have been better if Chloe would have just stayed in the past.

* * *

Clark spent the night at the farm in his old bedroom, working on an article. He had brought his laptop with him and spent the early evening putting the finishing touches on his latest article. Then, once he was sure his dad was asleep, he pulled on his Superman suit and had flew to Metropolis to be readily available if anything came up. He flew back to Smallville at four in the morning, momentarily content that Metropolis was safe.

He fell into his childhood bed. His parents had never changed his room and so it looked almost exactly as it had when he had left. Only the bedding on his bed was different. Everything had been kept the same, a shrine to the Clark Kent of age sixteen. He would have gutted the room if he had been his parents. They had chosen to keep his room the same. It was like he had never left, like he was Peter Pan and still a child.

In the morning, he made breakfast. There were few chores to be done now. Most of the land had been sold off five years ago. His dad had gotten simply too old to continue running the farm. Farming had also become more costly.

So the farm was no longer functional, but the house remained the same. Physically, at least, the house was the same.

But the house no longer felt the same. The warmth Clark remembered was gone. Not physical warmth, but the type of warmth harder to quantify. A warmth either present or not present, no middle ground to be had. And the warmth which had once existed no longer existed, and he knew he had played a part in that.

Knew he was partially responsible, and yet knew too that he would have made the same decision he had thirteen years ago. His childhood home had lost something vital, but Clark couldn't imagine making a different decision even with this knowledge of what his decision to leave permanently had cost.

He didn't like being confronted with the costs of his actions. Not only for the obvious reasons, but also because it forced him to think about the choices he had made, forced him to re-evaluate his life. He didn't necessarily like the conclusion. He didn't necessarily want to know he would make the same decisions he had made so many years ago.

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Reviews are always appreciated.


	2. Part II

"**A PLACE I KNEW"**

Part II

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At five after three, Clark entered the Talon. The smell of freshly brewed coffee was the first thing that hit him. The second thing that struck him was how the decor of the Talon had changed. The yellows and purples had been replaced with muted taupe, dusty pinks, and pale mauves. The basic layout hadn't changed, chairs and tables and couches in roughly the same spots as the last time Clark and been in the Talon.

It wasn't difficult to locate Chloe. Her professional grab from yesterday had been replaced by a dress and blazer that looked straight out of Chloe's wardrobe from high school. The dress was pink and brown and flowered. The blazer was green and made from corduroy.

The black tabletop held two cups of coffee. Apparently she had ordered for him.

The chair was hard. He sat down and wished that Chloe had chosen one of the lounge chairs. Evidentially she had in mind serious conversation. Nothing then could be comfortable. He couldn't feel pain, but he could feel discomfort. He didn't like discomfort. He was sure Chloe was relishing in his discomfort.

"You're late," she said flatly once he had seated.

"Sorry," he mumbled, glancing down at his drink. Whipped cream covered the top of the drink. He took a sip. It was a vanilla latte. The whip cream had been Chloe's choice then.

"I expected it. You were always late in high school."

He bristled at that. It had been thirteen years since they had gone to high school together. He had changed, just like she had changed. Equating him with a kid who had existed thirteen years annoyed him, and was akin to committing a fallacy.

"Plus, Lois tells me about your chronic lateness. She says you have it down to an art," Chloe said with a cheeky smile.

He took a mental step backwards. He hadn't expected that comment, not in a million years. "Lois?" he questioned. "As in Lois Lane?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"I didn't realize you two were friends," Clark said. He was trying to be causal; to cover-up his initial shocked reaction.

"We're cousins, actually."

He remembered Chloe telling him of her having a cousin at Met U, back in freshman year. Lois could have been that cousin, although Chloe had never mentioned a name. She only ever referred to the person as i_her cousin/i, _never handing out her cousin's name.

Now Clark briefly wondered why Chloe had never mentioned her cousin's name. It hadn't seen odd at the time, but it seemed odd now.

"Lois hasn't ever mentioned you."

Chloe tilted her head to the right, loose curls falling astray. She looked at him and _looked _hard. "I never told her we went to high school together."

"Why not?" He was genuinely curious about why Chloe hadn't divulged to Lois facts he had chosen to omit.

"She didn't know you were from Smallville," Chloe said simply. "She thought you were from Metropolis. I didn't see any reason to correct her."

It was an odd gift to bestow, the gift of allowing him to have his secrets, and it wasn't a gift Chloe would have given him back in high school. She had been a curious teenager, one who pressed him on numerous occasions for the truth. Even when she had crossed the line, she could never fully give up her search for the truth. Her activities involving his adoption records had proven that.

But while Clark was thankful Chloe had kept his secret, he didn't know how to thank her. How did a person thank someone for something that seemed insignificant in the grand scheme of things but significant on a personal level? On one hand, it was hardly noteworthy that he had grown up in Smallville. On the other hand, he had never wanted to discuss his past and his former life as a farm boy from Smallville was something he liked to keep close to his chest. So it mattered to him personally but it wasn't a huge thing.

"You did quite well for yourself after Smallville," Chloe commented, her voice causing his attention to snap back to the present. "Princeton for your BA in Journalism—not too shabby for a boy raised in nowhere, Kansas."

"You seem to know a lot," Clark mused.

"Lois has a big mouth," Chloe remarked. Her tone was sprinkled lightly with amusement. "She was insanely jealous when you started at the Planet."

"Because I went to Princeton?"

"She figured you were a spoiled rich boy used to having everything handed to him on a silver spoon."

"I bet that impression lasted long," Clark retorted dryly. Money wasn't an issue, but he tended towards baggy suits from the clearance racks and plastic black-rimmed glasses. His condo had two bedrooms but was still tiny. He definitely didn't fit the stereotype for spoiled rich boy.

"I think it lasted about a week."

He took another sip of his drink. It wasn't what he would have ordered. It'd do. At least there had been copious amounts of whip cream. Lois, when she was in charge of the Starbuck runs, tended to order everything non-fat and no whip. It didn't matter if he wanted the calories. Lois wasn't going to let him have them.

When it was him turn to do the runs, he often got Lois's drink full-fat. He just didn't tell her that. So far, she hadn't noticed. Lois was like that. She missed the little things. The big things she didn't miss. But small things, like the similarities between Clark Kent and Superman were beyond her capabilities of recognition.

And he relied on that.

"So what is Chloe Sullivan up to?" he asked, changing the topic. They had talked enough about him. "Are you still Chloe Sullivan?"

Clark didn't want to be, but he was curious about Chloe. The Daily Planet had been her dream, not his. And yet somehow he had ended up there and Chloe had ended up elsewhere.

He didn't want to feel curious. He wanted to be detached and aloof. It was difficult though. He hadn't realized it, but he had missed Chloe. He had forced his memories of Smallville into a box and hadn't opened that book at all in over ten years. But now he was back in Smallville and all the memories were coming back, including the memories of his friendship with Chloe. Some bad memories, true, but a number of good memories, good times forgotten temporarily but now coming back.

God, he was a Celine Dion song.

A part of him didn't want to know anything about Chloe. The bigger part of him was curious, which was what had driven him to ask the question about what Chloe was up to. He wanted to know her but then again he didn't want to know her. A part of him wanted Chloe to remain firmly in the past.

Another part of him wasn't sure what he wanted anymore.

"Still a Sullivan," Chloe confirmed. "I write for The Globe and Mail."

Clark hadn't expected Chloe's answer. He had assumed she lived in Smallville still, had thought that if she was in journalism that she'd at the Smallville Ledger. "That's a Canadian newspaper, correct?"

Chloe nodded. "Yeah, it's a Canadian newspaper. I cover American news, usually American politics. Canadians are surprisingly riveted by our politics."

"Going to take a wild stab here and say you don't live in Smallville anymore."

"No, I live in Ottawa," Chloe said.

In all honesty, Clark wasn't surprised to here Chloe had moved on. If he hadn't seen her yesterday, he would have assumed she had left Smallville years ago. Chloe had never belonged in Smallville, built not for small town life. Smallville was only meant to be a temporary home, never anything permanent. She was similar to him in that respect. They were both outsiders in Smallville, neither meant to stay forever in this small town.

Strangely enough, he found himself happy that she had moved past Smallville. He hadn't realized he had been saddened yesterday when he had believed Chloe to have remained in Smallville following high school.

But if Chloe was lived in Ottawa, then that begged the question about why she was in Smallville.

"Are you just here for the funeral?"

"Sort of," Chloe hedged. "I had been meaning to come to Smallville. I kept putting it off but I had set a date for next week. Then my dad phoned about your mother's death and I bumped my trip up."

"My dad appreciated you coming. It meant a lot to him."

"And what did it mean to you?" she asked softly. But it didn't really sound like a question. It sounded more like a thought voiced, perhaps a thought that shouldn't have been voiced.

He didn't say anything. He didn't have to say anything, the arrival of Lana and another person pre-empting the need for him to respond.

Lana was still beautiful. She wore jeans and a pink blouse, her hair still long. She had gained some curves over the past ten years. His eyes drifted down to her hands. She wasn't wearing a wedding ring. In front of her was a kid who looked to be about nine or ten. He was dressed in a white shirt with Superman on the front, paired with blue jeans. His resemblance to Lana was uncanny.

Clark had thought that, if he did run into Lana, it would hurt. Not a lot but at least a little bit. Seeing her here, with a child clearly hers, didn't hurt. He loved her, in the way a person always loves their first love, but it didn't hurt.

"Hey guys, sorry to intrude, but Nathan wanted to say hello," Lana said, her voice soft.

The kid, Nathan, smiled sheepishly and gave a small wave.

"It's fine," Chloe said. She reached over and ruffled Nathan's hair. She sat back and pointed at Clark. "This is Clark," she said to Nathan. "He went to high school with your mother and me."

Clark watched in bemusement as Nathan stared at him. He saw Lana give Nathan a light shove forward. Nathan took the hint and held out a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Clark smiled and shook Nathan's hand. The kid's grip was loose. "It's nice to meet you too Nathan." He glanced up at Lana. "Do you guys want to join us?"

Lana shook her head. "We have some errands to run, I'm afraid." She turned slightly to face Chloe. "We'll see you at about six?"

"I'll be there," Chloe said.

Lana nodded. Her eyes fell to him. She smiled at him. "Clark, it was nice to see you again," Lana said, even though they hadn't so much as exchanged a single sentence.

"You too," he said, the first words he had spoken to Lana in more than thirteen years. It seemed anticlimactic. When he was younger, he used to envision the things they would say to one another if they happened to run into each other. The exchange of just a few polite words hadn't ever occurred to him.

Life, Clark had found, often turned out that way. The one situation you never thought would happen became the one thing that did happen.

Nathan offered up his own goodbyes and then Lana was guiding Nathan out of the Talon. It had been a mundane experience, unexpected but not unwelcome. He hadn't expected Lana to have a child, but she had seemed happy, her smile far more genuine than it had been in high school.

"Well, that was unexpected," Clark said.

Chloe arched an eyebrow. "Didn't expect to see Lana with a kid?"

He hadn't but he didn't say that. Instead he said, "Nathan seems like a nice kid."

"He is." She tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. "I'm his godmother, but I don't see him nearly as often as I should," she said, sounding sad and wistful at the same time.

"You haven't visited in a while, I take it?"

"Not in about five years, unfortunately," she said. Chloe smiled at him, but there was something guarded in her eyes. "Work has kept me busy."

"Oh."

"But it's not like I haven't seen Lana and Nathan. They normally come and spend Christmas with me and my dad. Then they usually visit me during summer break."

"That's good," Clark said for lack of anything else to say. It was great for Chloe that she had managed to maintain her friendship with Lana. Clark couldn't help but feel like she was trying to make him feel guilty.

His hunch was proven right a second later as Chloe said, "Not all of us completely sever our ties when we leave." The bitterness of her tone wasn't unexpected. Thirteen years ago he had left Smallville for a second time, severing the ties to his childhood. He had expected a certain level of anger on Chloe's part. He had expected it on Lana's part too, but Lana had moved on it seemed.

Chloe hadn't, not that he was surprised. His leaving had just been another thing he had done which had hurt her. He hadn't meant to, had never meant to hurt her, but she had been hurt all the same, on numerous occasions. He understood that.

"Our situations are completely different," Clark replied with a sigh. Their conversation had been going so well, the type of conversation between two old friends out having coffee. He didn't want to get into a fight. He had fought with Chloe enough times in the past.

Clark also knew Chloe rarely let things go. He doubted she would let him just brush aside his leaving and non-contact. He had known, realistically, that this would happen. He just had hoped it wouldn't. He had just hoped it wouldn't.

"Maybe so," Chloe said calmly. "But you still could have, I don't know, called or even emailed us. But there was nothing, not a thing until I get a call from Lois, who tells me the name of her new partner at the Planet."

"There's a lot you don't know."

"I know enough," Chloe tossed back and Clark wondered just what she knew.

But it didn't matter what Chloe knew or didn't know. He didn't owe her anything. He didn't owe her explanations. He had behaved badly in the past, he knew, but he had been young and lost. He wasn't absolved from the bad decisions he had made, but they had been his to make and his alone. He couldn't take back those decisions, not that he would, and he wasn't about to offer Chloe fake apologies.

He disentangled Chloe's hand from his and took a step back. "Goodbye Chloe." He turned and began walking away.

* * *

His dad was staring at the TV was he arrived back at the farm.

"I'm back," he said when he entered through the front door. He didn't knock. He didn't see the need to. This had been his home, once upon a time.

"That's good, _son_." Jonathan looked away from the TV for a moment. "Did you have a nice time?"

Clark shrugged. "It was fine. Just catching up with Chloe."

"That's nice. Did you have a good time?"

"I'm going to get something to eat," he muttered, ignoring the question and abandoning his dad and the living room. He went to the kitchen, grabbed an apple and went upstairs to his former bedroom. He logged on to the Planet mainframe and checked his email, responding to a message Jimmy had sent him.

When it was closer to dinnertime, he left the room and went downstairs. His dad was still watching TV listlessly. He sighed. He made dinner again. Once the food was ready, he called his dad and they sat down to eat in front of the TV. The kitchen felt too empty to eat in.

On a commercial break, he broached the subject of a move to Metropolis. His dad just shook his head. "This is my home, son," Jonathan said, eyes gazing at the TV.

Clark let it go, for now. Judging by the way his dad was acting, he might have to force the issue. It wasn't what he had wanted but he hadn't expected the extent to which his mother's death would destroy his father. His dad was only fifty-eight, not old but not young either.

Shaking his head, he set his thoughts aside and concentrated on finishing his supper. Once he was finished eating, he could escape back upstairs. There he could work and pretend he was in his apartment. He could imagine he wasn't feeling guilty about the way he had left things with Chloe, that he wasn't witnessing his dad's decline in stability.

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Reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading!


	3. Part III

Part III

* * *

He woke Sunday morning to sunshine. He had forgotten the close the curtains in the room the night before. In the early morning hours, the sunlight streamed through and prevented him from sleeping in. He grunted and tossed a pillow over his head. He had been in Metropolis until four in the morning. All he wanted was sleep. But of course the weather was conspiring against him. The sun refused to let him sleep.

Reluctantly, Clark sat up. He stretched his arms over his head before planting his feet on to the cool wooden floor and standing up. Once he was up and about, he headed to the bathroom to grab a shower.

Clean and dressed in jeans and a plain white shirt, he went downstairs. His dad was, no surprise, in the living room. His dad was wearing a different outfit from yesterday but his hair wasn't combed and he looked pale. There was a gauntness to his face, which Clark hadn't noticed before.

"Morning Dad."

Jonathan didn't look up. "Morning son," he said absently.

On the TV, an old black-and-white film was playing. He didn't recognize the female actor on-screen but he knew the male actor was Tracey Spencer. His mother had admitted to having a bit of a crush on Tracey.

"This was one of your mother's favorite films," Jonathan said as he glanced at Clark. "She always loved it. Husband and wife dueling it out. She said it was the story of our lives."

Clark nodded but didn't say anything in response. There wasn't much to say.

He leaned against the door frame of the living room and watched the action of the TV screen for a few minutes. His dad remained engrossed in the show, eyes no longer directed towards Clark.

"I'll go fix us some breakfast," he said. The words fluttered in the air. His dad waved his hand, just a slight movement to indicate that he had heard.

Clark didn't look back at his dad as he walked towards the kitchen. He didn't want to face the man in the living room again. There was something broken about that man. Even if he hadn't always gotten along with his dad, he had never wanted to see his dad reduced to this.

Later that Sunday morning Clark found himself walking along Main Street. He had left the farm with the intention to buy his dad some groceries. He had parked his car near the grocery store and then had started walking, in the opposite direction of the grocery store.

He was three blocks from his original destination and still walking, still moving. Street after street of stores unchanged from the days of his childhood. He passed the Talon and other shops that had existed for decades. There were a few new stores and a few boarded-up buildings, empty and abandoned.

Like any Sunday in the past, the street was nearly devoid of people. Most were attending their weekly church service. Only a few other souls were out this morning. He passed three.

He walked past several _Missing Persons _posters, which captured his attention momentarily. His eyes skimmed the poster. The name didn't ring any bells. He moved on, wandering aimlessly as he neared the end of Main Street. Across the street stood a white building he hadn't seen before. Its sign declared itself to be the _Smallville Town Museum._

Clark wasn't sure how it happened but somehow he found himself sitting on a wooden bench, eyes staring unseeingly at the storefronts across the street. He stared at the museum from his vantage point across the street, lost in thought about history and town secrets and lies.

His thoughts were interrupted as a body dumped next to him on the bench. He glanced over, unsurprised to see Chloe seated next to him.

"Hey Clark," she said, her voice hesitant. She ran a finger along a pocket of her dark purple coat. The coat reminded him of a coat she had worn occasionally in high school. Even the dress beneath the coat, from the bit of hem he could see, looked like something Chloe would have worn in high school. If he didn't look at her face, he could almost imagine he had gone thirteen years back in time, back to freshman year when everything had been easy and comfortable between him and Chloe.

Now they were two individuals who had no clue how to relate to one another.

"Hi Chloe," he offered. He sighed inwardly and did the thing he had been telling himself to do since last night. "I owe you an apology storming out like I did yesterday."

"I think I'm the one who should be apologizing," Chloe said softly. Her hair fell forward, hiding her face from view. He remembered her short hair, which had never done this. She brushed her hair back behind her ears. "I told myself I would try to be understanding. Your mother always said to do that."

Clark swallowed heavily. "Were you close to my mother?"

"After you left, we grew close." She smiled sadly at him. "I guess we were lonely and bonded over missing you."

"I'm glad," he said. He was. Chloe and his mother had deserved to find comfort. If they had derived that comfort from one another that then was how the cards fell.

"She was a wonderful person." She ducked her head. "She was the one who encouraged me to leave."

"She did?"

Chloe glanced sideways at him, smiling softly. "After university, things didn't go quite the way I planned. I returned to Smallville and got a job at the Ledger."

"Small town life was never meant for you."

"No, it wasn't," she said quietly.

Clark swallowed around the lump in his throat." So my mom helped you muster the courage to set out on your own two feet?"

"You've been spending too much time with Lois," Chloe said. "But yeah, your mom did help with that. It was a difficult time and she just helped me through it. I never found the way to thank her."

"She knew."

Chloe looked at him skeptically. "And you know this how? I was under the impression you didn't have any contact with your mom?"

There had been limited contact, but that wasn't important. He knew not because it had ever been said to him but because it was just one of those things you knew. "Moms always know that stuff."

Chloe scooted closer to him. "I hope you're right."

"I am." His eyes drifted from the crown of Chloe's hair to the museum across the street. He pointed at the building. "That's a far cry from the old museum."

"It opened like six months ago."

"Someone's in the know," Clark said.

Chloe tilted her head to peer up at him, craning her neck at what had to be an awkward angle. "Lana keeps me abreast with all the latest news." It was an accusation, just a simple statement of fact. Chloe had kept her ties; Clark had severed his.

"Have you been?"

Chloe shook her head. "I've been here three days. There hasn't exactly been time."

Clark nodded and stood. He held out a hand. "Want to accompany me then?" he asked.

Chloe looked at him, amusement in her eyes. "Sure, why not?" She took his hand, letting him pull her to a standing position. He went to let her hand goes but she clasped his hand in a grip not tight but firm. He could have untangled his hand easily.

He chose not to.

The museum was housed in a two-storey building. They entered through the front door after crossing the street. The bottom floor contained a front desk and an area where the public wasn't allowed. That space was devoted to acquisition holding and housed several offices.

Before Chloe could, Clark had the ten dollars to cover the admission price for two adults in his hand. He handed it to the middle-aged, heavyset woman working the front desk. She smiled pleasantly and exchanged the money with two lime green paper bracelets, the proof of paid admission evidentially.

"Sign our guestbook?" the woman asked as they tugged on the bracelets. Clark tried to put a name to her face, searching his memory for the woman. He came up blank. She must have been a more recent Smallville acquisition.

Clark took the pen and wrote their names. _Clark Kent, Metropolis _on one line and _Chloe Sullivan, Ottawa _on the line below.

"Out-of-towners's I see," she remarked.

"We'll be going in now," Chloe said, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the desk. "I hate women like that," she muttered as they climbed the stairs to the second floor.

"She was harmless."

"She was nosy."

Clark resisted the smile that wanted to spread across his face. "And you weren't, back in the day?" he chided lightly instead of smiling. He couldn't do both, that would be a violation of some secret code about how far he could go with familiarity. Only familiarity allowed for teasing.

"First of all, back in the day? You make it sound like we're ancient."

"Past thirty."

"Not exactly over the hill yet," Chloe tossed back.

"Close enough."

They reached the top floor. There was a wall five feet from the top of the stairs, a cut-out archway in the middle that allowed a person to enter the actual exhibits of the museum. The wall separated the exhibits from the bathrooms and water foundation also located on the top floor. Clark was the first to enter, Chloe following him closely.

The exhibits were arranged in a large room separated into smaller sections via wooden partitions. They wandered through the exhibits, going mercifully in chronological order. The first exhibits were about the Kawatche tribe. The next exhibits were about the Small family and the other founding families of Smallville. There was no mention of the first European settlers to the area. They went through the development of farming in Smallville, the initial growth of the town. They went through World War I, the Roaring Twenties, the Great Depression, the Second World War, the prosperous fifties, the sweet corn factories, the sixties and the seventies and finally the eighties. There was an entire section devoted to the meteor shower of 1989, detailing not only that fateful October day but also the long-term consequences of the shower. The last few exhibits showcased the moving in of Luthercorp, the acquisition of a Central Kansas campus, and the slow but steady growth of Smallville.

Chloe snorted as they read that exhibit. "Luthercorp has been cutting jobs for the past five years."

They had been mostly quiet during their tour through the museum. When they had talked, it had been to exchange little details about their current lives. Chloe had shared a few stories about Lois as well, giving Clark some ammo for the next time Lois decided to attack his clothing style. He now knew about the pink tube tops Lois had worn everyday back in her junior year of high school.

"Museums tend to prefer good recent history, not bad."

"I suppose."

They were back were they had started, standing near the wall which divided the exhibits from the other facilities on the top floor. Clark headed for the archway but paused when Chloe called his name. He turned and headed back to where she was standing.

"What's up?"

Chloe gave him a nervous smile. "I promised myself not to pry, but…"

Clark shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Go ahead, ask."

"Did you…did you miss us?" she asked, her voice small.

"Everyday," he replied honestly. He had missed Smallville, had missed his parents, Lana, Pete, Chloe, Lex. He had even missed his chores. He had bottled up all that he had missed and forced it out of his mind after awhile, when it got too much to handle.

Being back in Smallville had forced all those memories out for the first time in over ten years. And, for once, he wasn't hiding from those memories. He was slowly beginning to embrace them.

He closed the gap between them and hugged her. Chloe wrapped her arms around him, burying her head into his chest. "You could have come back at anytime, you know that, right?"

He sighed audibly. "I just didn't fit in Smallville anymore, not after the summer in Metropolis," he confessed. He wasn't sure how to explain his reasons for leaving that second time, for not staying in Smallville after his father had come to Metropolis to get him back.

His father had never understood why he couldn't stay in Smallville. His mother had. She had been the one to see him go, the one who let him go. Like Chloe, he had never found the way to thank her for that before her death. But he didn't doubt that she knew.

Chloe pulled back, looking him straight in the eye. "We would have forgiven you."

"I hadn't forgiven myself," Clark said softly in reply. He had been horrified over his behavior in Metropolis, over the whole situation, and leaving had been the way he had moved beyond that past. It was the way he had gotten over what he had caused just before he had left Smallville. In leaving and starting over, he had learned to accept himself for who he was.

Chloe nodded and moved away from him. "We should get going."

She walked through the archway and Clark followed. A minute later they were back on the street, blue skies greeting them.

"I guess you'll be going back to Metropolis soon," Chloe commented as they stood awkwardly across from one another on the sidewalk.

They had shared something and now everything was unsettled between them. Clark had wanted a conclusion, a resolution before he went back to Metropolis. He had the feeling he wouldn't get it.

"In a day or so. What about you? When are you returning to Ottawa?"

"I took two weeks." She smiled at him. "This is probably goodbye then."

"Yeah."

They lapsed into silence, still standing across from one another. Clark could feel Chloe's eyes on his face, but he let his eyes roam around, focusing on anything and anyone besides Chloe. He took in the minor changes to the street and then noticed that the i_Missing Person/i _posters he had seen earlier on both sides of the street were gone.

"Where did the _Missing Person _posters go?"

Chloe shrugged. "I guess they found him?" she suggested.

"Maybe," Clark said, but he wasn't sure. The first thing people did when they found a person usually wasn't to systematically remove all _Missing Person _posters.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Chloe said, and she sounded tired all of a sudden. She reached over and brushed her hand along his arm. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"I don't have your phone number or your email address."

"Use those journalistic skills of yours," Chloe said. She still sounded tired, not as light and carefree as her words suggested her to be. She gave him one last smile before turning and walking away.

He watched her go, feeling unsettled and not sure why he felt that way.

He spent the rest of the afternoon squirreled away in his old bedroom, laptop hooked to the internet. His search hadn't revealed much. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for. He just knew that what he was looking for would be weird and unexplained.

Something strange was going on, something that made nagged at his mind, and he couldn't leave until he solved the mystery.

It wasn't in his nature to just abandon a puzzle.


	4. Part IV

Part IV

Note: In this story, Jimmy and Chloe have never met.

* * *

It was around nine that Sunday evening when the phone rang. He ignored it. Either his dad would get it or the answering machine would pick it up. It was probably just sympathy callers. He would prefer to be subjected to Lois's biting criticism than hearing yet another person offer condolences on his 'loss'.

His dad answered it. The sound of someone climbing the stairs meant that the phone was for him. A knock on the door signalled that his dad was outside. Clark reluctantly picked his body off of the bed and crossed the short distance to the door. He opened it.

"It's for you," Jonathan said. He held out the phone and Clark took it. His dad forced a smile before he turned and headed back downstairs to the constantly-on TV.

"Hey Chloe."

"How did you know it was me?"

He collapsed back on to the bed, mussing the plaid comforter. "Just a hunch." There wasn't anyone else who would phone him here. Anyone from Metropolis would have dialled his cell.

"Oh," she said. Her voice sounded small and he could detect a hint of worry underlying her tone.

"Are you okay? You sound worried."

She sighed. "It's probably nothing but…"

He sat up, leaning against the headboard and waited for her to continue.

"…It's just that I didn't know who else to phone."

"Just tell me what's going on," he said. He just wanted to know what was going on. He was tired of not knowing things.

"Nathan's missing."

That caught his attention. "Start at the beginning."

The words fell from Chloe in a rush. "Nathan was supposed to be home by six. He's three hours late."

"Did you phone the police?"

"It's only been three hours. They wouldn't care."

The police did tend to be like that, Clark knew. "Was he with anyone else?"

"He was with these twins, Eric and Daniel. I called their house but no one's home."

"Where's Lana?" Clark asked.

"Freaking out in the living room," Chloe said. "I told her I'd phone you and we could split the town."

"What about Nathan's father?"

He could hear Chloe shake her head. "Jason, Nathan's dad, lives in Seattle. He rarely sees Nathan. He phones maybe once a week," she explained.

"So Nathan wouldn't want to run away to Seattle?"

Again, he could hear Chloe shake her head. "No. Nathan wouldn't do that to Lana. He adores her."

"I'll take the north side," he said, plan in mind. "You take the south side."

"Thank you," Chloe said, sounding relieved.

"Don't mention it," he replied. He hung up, tossing the cordless phone on to the comforter. He realized he should have exchanged cell numbers with Chloe. No sooner had he thought this was the phone ringing again. It was, predictably, Chloe with the same idea.

He memorized the number of Chloe's cell quickly. Then he pulled on his boots, grabbed his jacket and headed downstairs. He deposited the phone next to his dad, told him that he was going out, and left. He didn't much care what his dad thought he was doing.

Getting into his car, Clark sped away from the quiet farmhouse and into the dark night.

* * *

Clark hated having to rely on his car for the search. It slowed him down and kept him on the paved roads. Kids hiding wouldn't be anywhere near the road. If he had been flying, he could have scanned the entire town by now. It was easier to scan using his x-ray vision when he was flying. He could use his x-ray vision when he was driving but his range was limited to what he could see out the driver and passenger windows.

There was no choice but to use a car as his mode of transportation. He couldn't fly because of what would happen if he did find Nathan. Someone would undoubtedly ask why he didn't have his car with him. There would be questions and he didn't need questions. It was best not to attract any attention.

He could have changed into his Superman suit, but that would have attracted too much attention. Superman always attracted attention. He needed to keep a low profile.

It had been over an hour since he had left the farm. He hadn't seen any sign of Nathan or the other two boys Nathan had been playing with. He had driven into town initially but now he was driving down on old dirt road. There were no streetlights for illumination, only a half-mast moon and a sky full of white stars.

The road seemed endless, much longer than he remembered, and he had half a mind to turn back. It was either that or get out and fly overheard, regardless of the consequences. An hour had already been wasted as he fruitlessly searched for Nathan from his car. He was leaning towards the latter option when his cell finally rang.

The number was unfamiliar. The Smallville area code told him that the call was in all likelihood from Chloe. He flipped the small device opened as he pushed his foot down on the brake, the car slowing to a stop. "Hello?"

"Nathan's at the hospital, but apparently he's fine," Chloe said without preamble.

Carefully, he executed a three-point turn on the narrow road and drove back the way he came. "I'll meet you there," he said as he navigated down the road.

"Okay." There was a bit of static, a pause, and then Chloe said, "Thank you Clark."

"No mention it," Clark replied because that was the truth. He would have gone out for anyone. It was his job as Superman. He didn't get to pick and chose the cases. He did whatever fell on his lap.

Chloe swallowed, and the sound was loud over the phone. "I'll see you there, I guess."

He nodded even though she couldn't see him. It was just a habit to nod. "Drive safely."

"I will," Chloe promised before ending the call.

The main road was just up ahead. He tossed the cell on to the passenger's seat before turning on his left turn signal. There was no one on the road. He turned and pushed down on the gas pedal. The car sped along the lightly-lit road, in the direction of the Smallville Hospital, going just slightly above the speed limit.

But he figured that was okay. The road was deserted at quarter past ten at night. He had places to be, people to met, kids to check up on.

* * *

The hospital parking lot was nearly empty when Clark arrived. He pulled in right behind Chloe. Chloe looked hurried but relieved when he joined her near the front doors of the hospital's emergency room.

"You said he's all right?"

She nodded.

"Then take a deep breath and try to calm down," Clark said. Chloe sighed but did at least take a deep breath.

The doors slid open as they entered the hospital. Chloe marched up to the information desk. "I'm looking for Nathan Lang. Where is he?"

The receptionist on duty was gray-haired. She wore a pink smock and was reading a cover-worn romance novel. Her displeasure at being disturbed was evident. Slowly, she put down the book and typed in Nathan's name, while Chloe clenched her jaw and gripped the counter top with white fingers.

"He's in the waiting room, still," the lady whose name tag read Dolores said. "I think," she added.

"You think?" Chloe demanded. She was fuming and one step away from exploding. All her worry had evaporated and now her anger was looking for an outlet.

"Thank you," he said, cutting in. He grabbed Chloe's right arm and dragged her away from the tactless Dolores.

"Clark," Chloe said in warning.

He shushed her. "Making a scene won't do anyone any good. We'll go to the waiting room and see if Nathan's there. If not, we'll search each and every hospital floor." He pulled Chloe to a stop. "You need to calm down. Letting your anger get the best of you won't help us find Nathan any sooner. Okay?"

"Let's go then," she said. She started walking, her pace fast and clipped. He followed a few steps behind her.

The waiting room was nearly empty. Spotting Nathan took only a second. The kid was tucked away in a coroner, body hunched up in a hard-looking chair. A man's coat was draped over his skinny body. His head rested against the back of the chair and his eyes were closed.

Chloe hurried forward. "Nathan," she said as she sat down in the chair next to Nathan's.

Nathan opened his eyes and yawned sleepily. "Hi Aunt Chloe."

"Are you okay?" she asked. Her tone radiated concern. Her hand reached out and smoothed Nathan's tousled hair. His face was a bit dirty and her hand fell down to his cheek to wipe away the dirt.

"I'm fine."

Chloe wasn't convinced by Nathan's soft-spoken reply. "Has the doctor seen you yet?"

Nathan shook him head as a voice behind Clark said, "He's next to see the doctor."

Clark knew that voice. He turned and was greeted to the sight of Jimmy Olsen, the photographer he and Lois often used. Jimmy looked conspicuous in the Smallville hospital. His brown khakis and white button-down were common enough attire, but the large camera that hung around Jimmy's neck as per usual made him stick out like a sore thumb.

"Jimmy found me," Nathan shared helpfully.

Chloe stood and brushed past Clark. "Thank you, Mr.?"

"Olsen. Jimmy Olsen," Jimmy said, an opening line Clark had heard too many times to think funny anymore.

Chloe didn't crack a smile. "I hope we haven't kept you in Smallville longer than you were intending."

Jimmy smiled broadly, looking Clark directly in the eye. "Actually, you've done me a service."

"Really?" Chloe said in disbelief.

Jimmy nodded and clapped Clark on the shoulders. "I came here to see if Clark needed any support." His eyes fell to Chloe. "I guess I should have figured that Clark already had friends from his schoolyard days."

"Oh-" Chloe began, but Clark cut her off as he asked, "Perry just let you leave?"

Jimmy shrugged. "Well, I finished my assignment for Lois's latest article. She told me to come down and see how you were doing. She said she'd clear it with Perry."

"Lois sent you?" he asked in disbelief.

"Maybe she cares," Chloe deadpanned.

"Um, guys?" Nathan said.

The three adults turned back to Nathan. Clark swallowed heavily and sighed when he realized that they had forgotten about Nathan.

Chloe was at Nathan's side in an instant. "What's wrong?"

Nathan sniffled. He had curled himself into an even tighter ball. Something had happened to the kid, that much was clear. Clark x-rayed the boy but, save for a few scratches, he was fine. But he was shaken up.

"It's about Daniel and Eric…" Nathan began.

It was like a light bulb had gone off over Chloe's head. She leaned in closer and asked, voice soft, "What happened to Daniel and Eric? Why didn't you guys come home at six?"

"We were playing out near Crater Lake when these three men came out of nowhere. We ran, but they chased us."

Jimmy and Clark exchanged looks while Chloe wrapped an arm around Nathan's shoulder and pulled his against her shoulder. He began crying earnestly and she rubbed his back, making the appropriate noises of comfort.

"Can you tell me what happened to Daniel and Eric?" Chloe asked. Her words were chosen carefully and spoken slowly.

Nathan pulled away from her and sat a bit straighter in his chair. His body was still curled into a fetal position. He shook his head. "No. We got separated." He looked at Clark and Jimmy. "We each went a separate way. I got lost on my way out of the forest."

Jimmy jumped in. "Yeah, I found him wandering the side of the highway a couple of miles from the Smallville welcome sign."

That meant Nathan had been a fair distance from where he had started. It was quite a trip by foot but Clark knew the body could do amazing things when the mind was terrified. Fight or flight. The survival instinct that made the body go into overdrive when presented with danger. It was amazing what the body could do when a person was scared.

"We can assume that Daniel and Eric are probably still missing," he said. His fingers inched for the smooth texture of his suit. There were missing children and it was serious. It wasn't some flight of fancy that had caused the three boys to miss curfew. There had been kidnappers, if Nathan's account could be trusted. Judging by how scared the kid still looked, and how rapid his heartbeat was, the kidnappers had been real.

"We should call the police," Jimmy stated.

Chloe just shook her head. She got up, patting Nathan's shoulder and saying that she would be right back. Then she motioned for Clark and Jimmy to follow her to an empty corner in the waiting room. Once they were out-of-earshot, she said, "We can't go to the police."

"Why not?" Jimmy demanded. His fists had clenched and Clark knew his friend was ready to explode. Children and dangerous situations were a sticky point for Jimmy. He often got gung-ho about those sort of cases. Children were important to him.

She sighed and ran her hands through her hair in a gesture of frustration. Her eyes were deadly serious as she spoke. "Look, the police can't do anything."

Clark took a step forward. "Something's going on here, Chloe. I know it is. Whatever this something is, it's some big secret. And you're keeping it from me." It was this secret that had been nagging at him all evening, Clark realized now.

"Keep your voice down," she hissed. Her eyes darted around, making sure that no one was paying any attention to them. Her eyes went from him to Jimmy and back again. "I'll tell you everything I know. But not here."

He took charge, handing out assignments. "You stay with Nathan until Lana arrives. Jimmy and I will drive out to Crater Lake and search the area. Maybe we'll get lucky and find Daniel and Eric."

Chloe looked divided. "I'm not sure…"

"I agree with CK," Jimmy said, cutting her off. His face was set.

Clark took over again. "We'll meet at midnight at the barn at the Kent farm." He directed his gaze at Chloe. "Does that work for you?"

"I'll be there," she said.

He watched her walk away. Then he turned to Jimmy. "Let's go. I'll drive."

They headed towards the parking lot. "You always drive," Jimmy whined. "Either you or Lois gets to drive. I never get to drive."

Clark shut Jimmy up with a well-timed glare. "You don't even know Smallville," he added logically. Logics sometimes run away from Jimmy, true, but there were occasions when logic did function for Jimmy.

Jimmy didn't say another word until they had reached the car. Then he said he got to pick the music. Clark was too tired to argue.

The car ride to Crater Lake was quiet, save for the light alt-rock music Jimmy found on a radio station that Smallville happened to pick up. It was rather unfortunate, Clark mused, but he didn't say so to Jimmy. He just let it go. There were two kids missing. Listening to bad music wasn't really that much of an issue.

* * *


End file.
